Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kiribati and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Public Enemy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thompson Twins,
Donny Hathaway,
One Last Wish,
Kenny Larkin,
Buzzcocks,
Terry Callier,
Roxette,
The Blackbyrds,
Amon Düül,
Davy DMX,
Lalann,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soft Cell,
Darondo,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moleskins,
Stetsasonic,
Soulsonic Force,
Flipper,
Juan Atkins,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Durutti Column,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moebius,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Panda Bear,
Youth Brigade,
The Fall,
Excepter,
Suicide,
Lyres,
Max Romeo,
Negative Approach,
Lungfish,
Shoche,
Aural Exciters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Five Americans,
Deepchord,
Skriet,
Quando Quango,
Erykah Badu,
Technova,
Sound Behaviour,
Dave Gahan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Section 25,
Rufus Thomas,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
Groovy Waters,
Dark Day,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks,
Ludus,
Derrick Morgan,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.